


Peek-A-Boo

by reagenzglas



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: AU after 2x7, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reagenzglas/pseuds/reagenzglas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was so not a good idea.  The moment they had come up with their stupid – so damn stupid – plan, Connor had known that it couldn’t lead to anything good. Who in the world would willingly meet with a potential killer? Well... apparently he would, at least as long as that meant that Oliver would stay safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peek-A-Boo

This was so not a good idea.

 The moment they had come up with their stupid – so damn stupid – plan, Connor had known that it couldn’t lead to anything good.  
Who in the world would willingly meet with a possible killer? Sure, he had done his own good share of reckless acts in the, not so distant, past.  
Sleeping with strangers for intel that could put him into a more favorable position for example, or accepting unidentified drugs at various clubs now and then… and then, of course, there was always… _that_ night.

  If he was honest with himself, maybe he wouldn't have even had any doubts to volunteer for this before. Before Oliver, that is.   
Now however, all he could think of, as he was sitting in some random diner the others had picked, was how much he absolutely did not want to be here; how much he had to lose, how much he already had almost lost and how this – this job, these people, this boss, this career – was most definitely not worth it. 

And yet again – of course it was worth it.  
The alternative would have been exponentially worse. Instead of himself, Oliver would have been sitting here, by himself, waiting for that creepy guy to come up to him, to flirt, to touch, to hurt?   
Oliver, the guy who was too good to even exist. Morally intact, so sweet and naive, always so damn trusting. Oliver, who Connor would have only been able to watch from afar, from the safety of a car. Oliver who would have been such easy prey, with his shy blush, his soft and forgiving eyes, his nervous laugh.

Connor wasn't entirely sure what had gone on in Oliver’s head lately. He had been so eager to join their little group, entirely unaware of what it really was that kept Connor with them.  Some small part within hoped that Oliver just wanted to spend more time with him. With one case after another, long days and even longer nights, they didn’t see each each other nearly as much as they would have liked.   
The other part, however, told him that that was just wishful thinking. Oliver probably was looking for some thrill, some excitement he didn’t usually get at his regular day job.   
And sure, maybe Connor had sometimes made it sound cool and fun when he talked about his cases, but what else should he have said?  
_‘I hate every moment I’m stuck there? Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe, like I’m suffocating because I have no way out?’_  
He had tried – had let little things slip, had been completely honest when he had said that Oliver was the only thing he was looking forward to during the day. Apparently none of them were enough though.   
So – no – the choice wasn't hard to make in the end. It was Oliver or himself – the decision had been made the moment Connor realized that there was no other option. 

At least he knew, that Ollie was safe. They had made plans to eat dinner together once … _this_ would be over. At least he got out of having to buy groceries; had instead been sent off with a kiss, a pat to the butt and the words _‘Make me proud and catch the bad guy’_.  
God, his boyfriend was such a dork.

And now, here he was. Still sitting in the diner, nursing the same, by now watery, drink wishing to be home instead, watching Ollie prepare his favorite meal as he had promised.   With how brightly the place was lit, he couldn’t really see the car outside. It didn’t really matter though, he knew they were there. The question was only if they would be actually watching him with how awkward and tense the atmosphere had been on the drive over.  
Laurel was very obviously against the plan, and Connor had secretly wanted to kiss her for that. Not only was she against it, she had actively stood up against Frank. Because… seriously, when does that ever happen?  
Michaela, on the contrary, was all for it and Connor wasn’t sure if he should maybe worry that she was apparently more than willing to throw him to the wolves, or… at ‘serial killer of the month’ candidates.  
 And then…there was Frank, of course.  Connor had barely been able to control himself when Ollie volunteered and talked about his ‘plan’ – and when Frank just stood by, with that fucking smirk on his face, as if he knew exactly that Ollie’s plan went just the way he himself wanted it to. Use that little nerd to get the information he can’t find himself and afterwards… send whoever in there with a potential killer – just as long as he, Frank, could stay somewhere hidden – nice and safe.  

Connor let out a big sigh, closed his eyes for a moment and ran his hand through his, by now, unruly hair. There was no use in dwelling over this. Ollie had taught him this. Or maybe… maybe it wasn’t necessarily Ollie, but rather just… being with him. Because, why would he let himself drown in anger about something he couldn't change anymore, when he had so many better things to look forward to? 

With a look around, making sure that his lapse in attention didn’t lead to some axe murderer around the corner, Connor took another sip and focused his attention on his phone instead.   
After flipping through his pictures, checking his emails quickly without actually reading the words, he sent Ollie a brief message.  
_‘Guess I’m not hot enough. Seems like he bailed on me. Get dinner on the table. Preferably in your birthday suit ;)’_  
The reply came almost instantaneously and made Connor smile softly at the screen.  
_‘Shut up. You know exactly how hot you are. And I’m not sure if you’re insinuating that I should be dinner?’_

Connor was just about to reply again, when he felt something in the small of his back.  

Oh shit.

 Hoping against hope that it was just some random customer, or the waitress wanting to make him order something else, Connor started to turn around, but was immediately stopped by a firm push against his back and a clear " _Nu uh. You stay right there, Mr. Walsh."_

Oh God…

 _“I don’t…. I have no idea what you want.”_   He had been careless, so damn stupid. Not wanting to give anything away, he tried to see the others, tried to signal something to them, tried to… he couldn’t see them. People were blocking the way. People that were arguing. Presumably about the collision they just had. A lady was yelling, making big gestures, as she tried to pick up her groceries.  
Next to her, the teenage boy that had maybe run into her, collected his skateboard. He couldn’t see them. What was worse – they couldn’t see him.

 They wouldn't be able to see any of them.  Connor barely caught a glimpse of his phone as it lit up with another message, read the brief _‘on your way yet? I might have gotten a bit creative’_ as the pressure in the back increased once again. 

 _“Just so we’re quite clear, Mr. Walsh. The shirtless picture on your profile was not necessary. I would have met with you anyways. And I’m aware of your friends outside. What I also know is, that you have a boyfriend. Oliver, right? He would have been more my type.”_ he chuckled. _”Does he easily get into trouble? He does that sometimes, right? Would be a shame…”_ he trailed off for a moment, exactly aware of what his words would do to Connor. 

 _“I’m sure we understand each other, hm? So, when I’m done talking, you’re going to get up, step in front of me and you’re going to lead the way towards the back. Don’t even think of doing anything else than what I just told you. Believe me… you would not want to live with the consequences. And you already have such a guilty conscience, don’t you Connor?”  
_ Connor’s hands had started shaking the moment the guy spoke his first sentence, his entire body wasn’t far behind and he felt his limbs tremble and his chest tightening. This was not happening… He still couldn’t see the others and he felt immensely sick with the realization of what was happening. His phone blinked again with a _“Connor?”_ as an impatient hand grasped his shoulder tightly.  

 _“You don’t want to test me. Stand up. Go.”_   The hand remained where it had landed, as Connor got up on his shaky legs, breathing rough and uneven, eyes blinking rapidly. He thought of running of, or of fighting him off… but… Oliver. And even if he could, the thing in his back felt too much like a gun, that he would risk the innocent people in the restaurant.   
And so, with a desperate look out of the window, Connor went.  
His phone remained where he had sat.  
Lighting up with messages from Oliver.


End file.
